I am a smiley kind of person. It is actually the thing I get the most compliments on (my smile). The ironic thing is I smile a lot but don’t necessarily “feel” smiley. I hide my true feelings behind this smile.
What I am not is the person who will call you to cry on your shoulder. I will happily be that shoulder for friends and family or even a complete stranger and have been on numerous occasions. But, I am not able to be that vulnerable with other people in that way at least. I wish it were easier for me to do this. I mean obviously I am an open book as evidenced by this blog but showing physical emotions is tough. There are a finite amount of people who have ever seen me cry. Even my husband has only seen me “weep” a handful of times over our 22 years together.
I cry though, oh boy do I cry. Always in a “safe” place like the shower, the car, at night when all are asleep. What I have learned though over the past 10 years or so is that when the tear cup overfloweth I must bottle things up. I don’t want to risk a cryfest in front of anyone so just tuck those nasty feelings in for bed and hope they stay in a comatose state.
When I have bottled these feelings for too long they are sometimes sealed so tight that I am unable to cry when I really need to even if I am completely alone. Unfortunately, when I am in that frame of mine I am closed off from both bad and good feelings. I remain in the land of status quo feelings. To let a little air out so that cork doesn’t burst from my bottle and take someone’s eye out I have had to figure out a way to make myself cry. A way to connect with emotions and feel something. A way that I am still shielded by the real feelings otherwise down the rabbit hole I go again. Forget Netflix and chill we’ll call this Hulu and Cry.
As a serious empathic and sensitive person, seeing other people cry is my biggest trigger. So, I will go through periods of time where I may engulf myself in some intense dramatic television viewing. This past spell has brought me back to an old favorite show, Private Practice. Ironically a show whose main character is a neonatal surgeon with a best friend that is a fertility specialist. The show follows the characters of a co-operative medical practice with a strong focus on baby (IVF, Birth, Death, Pregnancy, etc.). The show began the year my husband and I started TTC and while it was often difficult to watch (hello triggers) it was cathartic for me somehow. I recently found all the old seasons on Hulu and have been steadily binge-watching. This has allowed me some serious crying and thus unleashing of the built of pressure of feelings. Certainly not an ideal way to deal with my shit but it helps me not feel quite so weighed down by everything. The only other thing really helping right now other than medication is writing this blog. I drag my feet from time to time as it isn’t easy to write but somehow making it a public forum has me writing far more often and on the regular than keeping a journal.
And with that I bid you adieu. Enjoy what is left of this lovely weekend. I will be out celebrating my fabulous husband’s upcoming birthday tonight.